Wolf's Den

by J. R. Mitchell

  As Ian jumped down from the back seat, I had to admire the view. While he didn't have an eight pack, he was cut and defined. The fact that he couldn't button the top button of the jeans was a turn on. Forgetting the threat inside, I went to him.

  "Sikaoki, while I find you extremely sexy at the moment, do you not think it prudent we check your home for invaders before we do this in the driveway?"

  As disappointed as I was, I had to agree. “As long as you promise to wear those jeans again, I agree, otherwise, we are getting back in the Hummer and going someplace else where we can indulge."

  I do not think anybody is in your house, but I feel as though many are watching us. It is not safe here and we should leave, this is a trap. I have your clothes back at the Den. We should stay there until I can send some muscle with you tomorrow morning.” Ian sounded scared as he said this. When he sniffed the air, I thought I saw his nose crinkle with a distaste of something or someone, although; I doubted he would tell me what it was.

  I was pissed off when I glanced at my house. This was my home. I should not feel threatened here. I had to agree with Ian, something or somebody was watching us. The vibe was bad. It could have just been nerves, but my gut told me that to go into my home was death, so I conceded to Ian's age, animal senses and my own gut instinct.

  I opened the door to the driver's seat, I motioned for him to get into the front passenger seat. It irritated me to have somebody behind me while I drove if the other seats weren't occupied. When Ian crawled into the passenger seat, I drove back towards the bar.

  All I knew was that if I was going to be spending a lot of time at the Den, some decorations had to change. Not seeing the light of day, was going to make me cranky. At this point, I didn't feel safe without some type of protection at night. That meant I was going to become an insomniac until this was all over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  As I dug through a closet, I found an old stereo. It wasn't as archaic as an eight track but it was close. A tape deck? Hell, who would have thought that a six hundred-year-old vampire would have something so advanced? Digging into the box I had found the old stereo in, I also found a cache of old tapes. When I examined them closer, I found a tape of Confederate Railroad's Greatest Hits. Who knew that Ian was a country fan? Hell, it had been a long time, and although I was more of a rock fan, older country was a second best, Confederate Railroad had a few meaningful songs. They reminded me of my Daddy.

  Daddy was an old cowboy. Going through my rebellious stage with my mom, I started to listen to country music. There are of course the few old classics that I would always remember and love, but Confederate Railroad was one my Daddy said was “new horse shit,” his words not mine.

  Oh-well, taking the small boom box out, I plugged it in and slipped in the cassette tape.

  When I pushed the play button, I was assaulted with the twang of steel guitar and I had been missing it for a long time. I listened to the first song on side one. “Queen of Memphis” was a catchy tune. When the next song came on, I was disappointed when I remembered this tape didn't have my favorite song on it. Although it had a song that was close to being my favorite, “Trashy Women” I pushed fast forward on the tape player, allowing it to progress to the next side. I just wanted to see what was on it. I discovered there were a few good songs, but the song that came on before “Trashy Women” made me think of Raif.

  The song was about leaving a certain way and never being able to come back, it seemed fitting ... but I was not in the mood to reminisce and clicked the forward button once again.

  When it began to play the last song on this album, I got up and started to sway my hips and sing along. It was good to try to forget what my life was all about. I used to think that I was what this song talked about and it made me feel good to think back to simpler times.

  When the song ended, I decided that I was not feeling good enough. I dug into the box once again, and found an old eighties tape that I thought might do the trick.

  Pat Benatar, hell she was a great artist and sang at least one great song.

  The first song to come on was a good one, and I danced around to it, bringing back memories of my youth. I embraced it and in my mind saw me dancing at a junior high dance.

  Just what I needed. I sang along and danced, not caring what I looked like, I did moves that haven't seen the dance floor since the early nineties. I relished in the feel of not having a worry.

  Coming around in a gyrating twist of hips my hair flying around with the force of my twirl, I opened my eyes and saw a mini bar.

  I was in heaven. I sauntered over to it, swaying with the beat of the music, I closed upon the back of the bar and opened the cupboards. I found just the thing.

  Glenlivet, God ... who could resist a bottle of twelve-year-old scotch, unopened and covered in dust, I knew this was the bottle for me.

  I paused as the end of the song resounded out of the speakers. I cracked the label and watched as mist came from the open mouth of the bottle.

  I breathed in as a depressing song came on, I watched the mist evaporate, and then listening to the words of Pat Benatar ring out in the empty room, I grabbed the bottle and took a long pull.

  As the beat picked up, I grabbed the bottle and swayed around the room closing my eyes and twirling, swaying my hips like a stripper in Vegas, and drinking to my hearts content.

  It was the best feeling, remembering my youth, and the innocence I had back then. I wanted to forget the problems and complications I had in my life. For this one night, I wanted to be carefree.

  Silly of me, I know. When Ian entered the room, I didn't notice. I continued on, without a care ... soon I would regret it.

  A song came on that reminded me of the prior evening, spent chasing a child who had been abducted by vampires and tortured.

  Hell really is for children. Instead of feeling carefree, I remembered how this song used to make me feel. I realized that I was so stupid back then it was pathetic.

  I took another long pull off the bottle. I turned towards the music and walked slowly toward it, this was not what I was trying to accomplish. My goal tonight was to forget, and this song was too recent and too painful. I fast-forwarded the tape to the next song.

  As the next song came on, I wanted to sink down but resisted the urge. I made myself remember the last time I had danced to the song. It was with a boy named Paul, my first puppy love at a YMCA dance. It amused me to think of how embarrassed I was to feel his erection that night as we swayed to the music.

  I smiled, but remained standing took a slow swig from the bottle and swayed in a slow manner to the song.

  I continued to dance with the music, never once noticing that Ian was watching me. I probably would have been embarrassed, however; I didn't know he was there, so I continued to dance and drink.

  Slow songs turned to fast songs. My body registered the change and changed with the tempo of music.

  When “Invisible” came on I changed to a completely different dance. It was then that I felt a body up against mine.

  Ian knew how to dance with me. Maybe he had watched me long enough to know that I liked to lead, maybe he was just a good dancer, but when he pulled the bottle of scotch from my hands and took a drink, it turned me on. I followed the track of the bottle and was now facing him as we bumped, ground, and humped through our clothes.

  We danced. We danced as if we didn't have a care in the world. We didn't change our pace. We just touched each other without using our hands. When the tape ended, he passed the bottle to me and walked away. Not a single sound had escaped us, not a word was uttered. It was like a magical night. I watched him in those too tight jeans and no shirt as if he didn't change because I had not.

  He changed the tape in the stereo. It seemed as if he did not care what tape he put on, or what song came on, he turned and walked back to me. As Tom Petty's “Wildflower” rang out, I was taken aback by the fact that Ian listened to Tom Petty.

  He once again drew me close
to him without uttering a word. We danced—God we danced like we had no cares in the world and it felt good.

  When I heard a sound from Ian, I didn't acknowledge it. He repeated what he had said. The third time, I registered what he said.

  "May I take blood?” His mouth was buried in my neck and it felt so good, I whimpered a yes. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the song, maybe it was because I didn't care anymore but as the song ended and the next song came on, I felt his fangs pierce my flesh.

  I felt pain and collapsed in his arms, the swaying of our bodies stopped and I hung on for dear life as he took my life essence and drew strength form me.

  To me it wasn't the same as a guy going down on me and drinking my nectar, this was actual blood and Ian, vampires needed it to survive, like some kind of parasite.

  The pain didn't bother me. It actually felt good. I wasn't sure if Ian was able to play some kind of mind trick on me, or if I just liked a little pain. However; I snapped back to my senses, and he relented when my grasp on his body changed. It went from being in bliss to tension, and as subtle as the change of feelings was he sensed it.

  I was baffled but I didn't get mad. I just collapsed and started to nuzzle his neck; Ian, like a true champion, caught my weight and carried me to the bed.

  When he settled me under the black satin sheet, I was not ready to let him go. I felt him leave me again and groaned aloud, I was not done with him. I needed more. I had had too many close sexual encounters to be satisfied or dissatisfied with a little drawn blood.

  When he returned Jewel was playing and it was perfect. I was lost in thoughts of sexual satisfaction and nothing short of Ian leaving would have deterred my mind.

  I have to admit he did protest. He knew what he had done to me was against the rules. I seem to remember Ian telling me he was sorry, that he had gotten carried away, but I didn't care, I was beyond any thought. I had an itch only his massiveness could scratch and I was going to get what I wanted.

  I can recall him telling me to make it fast as it was almost dawn but I was so out of it, the next actions were a blur.

  I remember feeling the head of his hard on down my throat and trying not to throw up when my gag reflex kicked in. The next memory I have is of him entering me.

  It wasn't gentle it was forceful and full of need. I think that alcohol doesn't affect vampires the way it affects humans, because as abrupt and hurtful as it was I encouraged him to fuck me harder.

  I could feel him hitting the back of my uterus and relished the feeling. Most women think it hurts, I think it hurts in a good way.

  I was bucking and squirming, whimpers of pleasure were escaping my lips. I was raking my nails down any part of his skin that I could touch, and feeling his flesh tear under my fingers turned me on even more.

  As he lost his rhythm, I bucked harder and screamed out as his thrust became more aggressive. I could feel every vein in his throbbing member and it felt good. I couldn't control myself and as I went over into the abyss of orgasm. I screamed out a blood-curling shout and tensed before my body let the waves of ecstasy overwhelm it.

  When Ian collapsed on top of me, I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time. I kissed his shoulder then passed out.

  * * * *

  I bolted upright in the bed of black satin. I let out a strangled gasp and looked around furiously. I felt my neck and there were no puncture wounds. I glanced at where the decanter had been set down, but it was not there. I let my eyes rove the room and noticed that there was no stereo.

  It dawned on me that I had dreamt the whole thing, and that I had help in that dream. God damn it Ian stay the fuck out of my dreams! I shouted to him through my mind.

  Sikaoki, why did you let me do it? He cried back into my mind, we took another step in the bonding. I took blood, not actually but it is another step in the bonding to do it that way metaphysically.

  I don't have time for this vampire mystical crap Ian, stay the fuck out of my dreams. With this final thought to him, I slammed my shields in place and drifted back to dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  When I woke with the setting sun, Ian was waiting for me, something had happened. I could block him out of my mind, but his presence was more persistent. Something with our bonds had happened and it was not necessarily a good thing.

  I threw back the black sheets and realized I was naked, but I was getting used to it. The one problem I had with not having any clothes was that I had no guns, and that made me feel more naked then anything else.

  I decided it was time to corner Ian and demand to know what the hell I had gotten myself into. I opened my mind to him. Ian Love, will you join me? And please bring me a robe. We need to talk.

  Sikaoki, I do not like the innocence in your tone, it means something bad is about to happen. Are you sure you want a robe? I would love to play out our dream.

  Cut the crap Ian. I need a little refreshment also. I would fetch it myself, but walking around your bar naked is not my idea of a good time. With the last statement, I closed my mind and shut him out. I decided I would wait for him to come to me. In the meantime, I switched on all the lights in the room, and wandered to a doorway I hadn't noticed before.

  I opened the doorway wide, and let it slam into the wall to ensure that nobody was hiding behind it.

  Old habits die hard.

  I sensed that nobody was waiting for me. I eased my way in and flipped on the switch. I couldn't believe what I saw. It must have been the biggest shower in existence well personal shower. It resembled a girl's locker room. However, there were four glass walls, and at least ten different showerheads. The controls for the shower looked complex as well.

  The showerheads were placed in the glass walls as well a few different places in the ceiling. Also, there were what looked like Jacuzzi spouts, but I thought they were for a steam shower.

  God, what I wouldn't give for a long, hot shower, I thought. I winced when the word God came into my head, and I wondered about that. I had never noticed Ian; or for that matter any other vamp wince at the mention of Him, however new side effects had a strange way of popping up whenever I was concerned, so I just shrugged it off.

  I stared with longing at the shower. I opened my link to Ian, only to discover that he had shut down.

  Well, fuck that! I was gonna take a shower if that bastard was gonna keep me waiting. I locked the door and walked naked towards the shower door. After I opened the door, I changed direction went to the medicine cabinet and opened it up. I was assaulted with Ian's masculine scent. I grabbed more than one bottle at a time and inhaled them each. None had labels, but they all seemed to be something similar. I could not identify the smell; however, it was all Ian. It smelled like wet fur, and death and something more masculine, yet spicy, and flowery all in one, almost like a cooking spice.

  I held onto the one bottle that smelled the best to me, and walked back to the shower room. It couldn't be described any other way, it sure as hell wasn't something you could call a stall.

  I closed the door, Firm determination behind me and drizzled a little of Ian's scent along the floor of the shower, and was taken to memories that weren't mine.

  I knew exactly how to turn the setting on for maximum comfort. It was very hot, yet the mixture of steam and water beating me on all sides, with the light drizzle of the rain heads, from above.

  As the water began to pound my tired flesh, I started to get flashbacks of Ian's history.

  After the first few sex scenes entered my mind I tried to shut the memories down but they wouldn't go away. Before I knew what was happening, I was sitting on the floor, scratching at my arms and legs, as Ian sank fang into some unsuspecting girl. I felt the rush as Ian was filled with the life of the girl. I wanted to stop the pleasure it was bringing me, and the surest way I knew how to do that was to cause myself pain.

  Her life for his. Regret flooded him. Regret that he had to take life to sustain his own. I sat on the floor surround by his scent and re
living his memories when he entered the shower.

  I glanced up at him, tears along with a trace of anger in my eyes.

  He frowned at me, crouched, it was then I could feel his anger. I could only think it was anger at what I had accidentally done. I had no idea why, but he was mad nonetheless, and I had to deal with it.

  How, you might ask?

  I pulled the female card, not because I wanted too, but because the tears just burst out of me. I sank into his shoulder as I sobbed. I felt him shift his weight. He sat down, cradled his arms and legs around me, and let me cry.

  I tried to control the tears but they wouldn't stop. It was like somebody I didn't know, maybe a softer version of me, had taken over, and pushed the real me to the back burner.

  When Ian tilted my head back and held a bottle to my lips, I took a drink of the hot, scorching liquid, and felt it slide down my throat.

  His lips replaced the glass with speed, and only that made me stop crying. As the horror and sorrow of Ian's existence was drained out of me, the tears stopped completely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I kissed him, wanting to ease some of the sorrow and pain from his brow. As he responded to me, Glimpses of the horror of his past assaulted me, as did some of the more pleasant things. It was one particular black haired Indian woman that caught my attention. She was not a vampire I could tell. She seemed almost like me. Vampire strength, and a certain glint in her eye that said, 'Don't fuck with me.' I could see her talking to Ian through his mind. It was at this juncture that Ian closed his mind to me.

  I pulled back confused and looked at him. He shrugged and tried to ignore the question, but I remember him telling me he had never bonded with another before. Their past relationship felt like a bond to me.

  "It isn't my bond. My wife was bonded to my maker.” Ian said just loud enough not to be a whisper.